You didn’t even want to be there.

But your best friend forced you to come with her to a motorcycle circus on the edge of town. She begged you to tag along just so she could see her boyfriend perform. You gave in—reluctantly.

The moment you stepped into the smoky, loud, adrenaline-charged arena, you regretted it.

Because he was there.

Cassian.

Your enemy. The arrogant jerk with a sharp tongue and eyes that always seemed to see too much. He leaned casually against his motorcycle, and the second he spotted you, that familiar, irritating smirk curled on his lips.

You stopped in your tracks. “What the hell is he doing here?” you asked your best friend, your voice low and sharp.

She looked guilty. “So… uh, my boyfriend? He’s actually friends with Cassian. Like… really good friends.”

You stared at her in disbelief, then back at Cassian, who was now walking toward you with that same smug confidence you hated.

“Well, well,” he said, voice smooth like oil over gravel. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You folded your arms. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

He nodded toward the giant steel cage in the center of the circus ring. The infamous Globe of Death.

“Let’s make this interesting. Step into the cage. Stand in the center while my boys ride.”

Your pulse jumped. “You serious?”

“Unless you’re scared,” he taunted.

You hated him. You really, truly hated him. But you hated backing down even more.

So you walked into the cage.

The gate slammed shut behind you. Engines roared to life. One by one, Cassian and his riders entered, circling you like wolves. The sound was deafening, the wind from their speed tugged at your clothes. You closed your eyes, heart pounding.

Then you felt it—Cassian’s hand brushing your waist as he passed, light and deliberate. A silent message.

When you opened your eyes, he was looking back at you over his shoulder, grinning like he owned the world.

But you didn’t flinch.